Endings
by Denise Nicole
Summary: Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. Norman Cousins


A/N: Those of you who know me well should know that I often write emotionally, using words to either celebrate rare inner harmony, or exorcise demons that are plaguing me. This is unfortunately one of the latter types, written in response to something happening in my life right now that has caused many currents of turmoil. This was written to help ease that turmoil, and really means nothing more than that. I hope people can enjoy this for being simply what it is.

* * *

It happened so slowly that neither really noticed until it was over.

The start was so simple – a phone call that was never answered. At the time, Logan stared at the receiver and furrowed his brow, but instead of pushing, like he had in the past, calling over and over, he simply hung up.

Max cursed herself at the missed call and came over a few days later, but he wasn't home. Instead of waiting, she started a note. "Hey," she managed to write before crumpling it and walking away.

They managed to meet for lunch the next week. It was casual and friendly. But that's all it was. They both frowned when they left, but neither turned back to look towards the other. They continued forward, both intent on their next destination.

Max called him from Crash some time later and he could hear the laughter in her voice, the laughter in the background - the friends she was always surrounded with, the ones who had been there for her even before she had met Logan. They didn't talk long, because of the noise. They promised to speak again soon.

There was another Eyes Only assignment available, but Logan could only remember that laughter and how rare it was. He imagined the place she was in and the smiles that came to her face there. While the legwork brought life to her face, it rarely brought the same kind of life to her eyes. Logan picked up the phone and called someone else, equally capable. It really was no big deal. She would call if she needed him.

A package came through at Jam Pony. It was in Sketchy's hands and he mentioned the delivery at Fogle Towers, but for some reason, she didn't think to offer to take it for him. Even if she had thought about it, her following thought would be about how much Logan seemed to enjoy his time picking through details and data, and while she could provide some of that legwork for him, she knew he would call her if he needed her. He always had.

The call never came.

Neither noticed.

Sometime later, it was their friends who thought to ask the questions they should have been asking themselves, but refused to do.

"So, what's up with you and your boy?" Original Cindy asked as they sat in a small

coffee shop in Pioneer Square. Neither was really motivated for work these days.

"Hmmm?" Max looked up from her coffee, not understanding Original Cindy's question.

OC's brow furrowed. "Logan," she said sternly. "You talk to him lately?"

"Oh," Max replied, looking back at the steam curling off the drink. "It's been, I don't know, about three months or so, I guess."

"You guess??"

Uptown, the conversation had the same direction. Bling eyed his employer. "You guess? Used to be she'd sneeze and you'd sprint across town to hand her a tissue."

Logan rolled his eyes and dropped down into his wheelchair, wrapping the sweat towel around his neck before heading back into his office. "I don't know, Bling. I guess we just…"

"…drifted away," Max shrugged, without much emotion.

"That's it? Drifted away?" Original Cindy asked in disbelief. "Somehow I doubt that's it, as explosive as you two always were." Max rolled her eyes. "Seriously, I always thought it'd take—"

"—the death of one of you two losers to get you apart. And here you are telling me this drift bullshit. I don't buy it." Bling simply crossed his arms, waiting.

He sighed, and began typing. "I wish I could say it was more than that, Bling. Really. But…I don't know. Just one day I looked up and she—"

"—wasn't there." Max stopped drinking her coffee and instead played with the mug, passing it back and forth between her hands, listening to the bottom scrape on the table top.

Original Cindy regarded her friend, feeling the weight in her chest every time she thought of it. "He doesn't know you're leaving Seattle for good, does he?"

"No," she said silently.

"Why?"

Bling uncrossed his arms. "You could call her, you know. It would be really simple."

Logan paused in his typing, and looked back over his shoulder. "I know."

"So why don't you?"

Max stopped shuffling the mug around and met Original Cindy's eyes. "Because sometimes…"

Logan resumed, as though there was nothing different than any other day. "…you just need to let go."

* * *

Max had decided to leave while it was night, so her last images of the city would be as she had always favored it. But even though it had been so long, she made her way back to what she really considered the beginning. She had gone there earlier in the day and placed a piece of tape over the lock, as she had done so long ago. After dusk, she made her way to the rooftop and looked out. "Coward," she murmured to herself as she stood at the edge, knowing she didn't really want to see him. Knowing that if she did, she may feel compelled to say something, goodbye maybe, or maybe to not even leave in the first place when she knew with all her heart it was really the best thing for her to be doing. But even through her cowardice, she couldn't resist, and focused her vision.

The light glinted off of it, much as it had the first time she had seen it. Her. Bast. The goddess who comprehends all goddesses, eye of Ra, protector, avenger, destroyer...giver of life who lives forever. Logan wasn't there but he had left a message for Max. Somehow, he knew that they would never see each other again, but he was wishing her well.

In his apartment, Logan stared at the small statue from the darkness, the only light in the room reflecting off its surfaces. While one part of his heart was waiting for a gentle thump on the rooftop, or the wisp of a rope dropping from the skylight, the rest of it prayed that those sounds wouldn't come. It would be easier on both of them if they just let go. He sighed, and just as he was about to turn away, he thought he heard a small sound. It was ridiculous, but as high up in his tower as he was, he could swear he heard the rev of a motorcycle engine. Maybe it was his imagination, but he knew it was her answer.

They never did see each other again.

* * *

The end


End file.
